


Dirty Gold Fingernails

by melwil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melwil/pseuds/melwil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her fingernails are gold and he doesn't know who she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Gold Fingernails

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2003

Her fingernails were painted gold.

He wondered if she had done it herself, if she kept Muggle things like nail polish at home (nail polish that flecked in the corners), if she used them in the summer. Or maybe, maybe one of her Muggle friends, one of the girls she grew up with, had done it for her.

But it was different.

There was always something different about her when she came back from walked differently, or talked funny, or wore her robes like they were awkward and unfamiliar. It was like she was stained - dirtied by the banalities of the Muggle world - and all he wanted was for someone to scrub her clean.

Harry was the same, of course, after staying with the Dursleys. But he had less contact with Muggles than Hermione did - he had no Muggle friends and he preferred to stay away from his relatives as much as humanly possible.

"Have you heard from Harry?" He asked her, abruptly disturbing his own train of thought.

"A letter or two," she said. She looked at him wearily, and he wondered how much homework she had done over the break. "Hedwig came to collect his birthday present from me."

"So you have no idea what he's been up to?"

She shook her head. "No."

Her voice was quieter than he was used to. He wished that they could erase the fear and caution, that they could all speak normally again.

She had been awfully quiet when he parents dropped her off at the Burrow. His father had come out to goggle at the Granger's car, and had ended up inviting them in for afternoon tea.

"What's wrong?" He whispered, as his mother called everyone inside.

She shot a quick glance at her parents and pushed his hand away from her. "Nothing. There's nothing wrong."

"Hermione."

"I'll tell you later." She avoided his reaching hand again, and he realised that she hadn't told her parents about them.

He wondered what else she had neglected to tell her parents.

Surely she wouldn't be able to tell them about turning into a cat, or being petrified, or being the subject of a vitriolic article in a Witches' magazine. Not could she tell them about time turners, or ventures into the Forbidden Forest, or wild rides on Hippogriffs. He doubted that they would have any idea what she was talking about when she spoke of transfiguration or arithmancy (hell, he didn't understand arithmancy.) It was probable that they knew nothing more than the bare facts about the war that was steadily stealing their lives.

He wondered how on earth she managed to be a witch and a Muggle at the same time.

She hugged her parents tightly before they left - an uncharacteristic show of affection which made Ron realise that she was unsure if she would see them again.

"Will they be safe?" He asked, as she watched them drive away.

She nodded. "Dumbledore supplied me with some wards for them. They should be all right."

He reached for her hand again and gave it a quick squeeze. "You'll see them again."

She shrugged, deep worry creasing her forehead. "We'll see."

Hermione tried to help his mother clean up, but she shooed them away. "You go and enjoy yourselves, dears. The older boys can help me for once."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. Ron poked her in the side.

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Go."

Ron took her to the little stream behind the orchard. They sat in the soft grass, his hand resting gently on her knee.

She caught him staring at her gold fingernails. "I'll take it off before school starts," she said, trying to hide her fingers in the folds of her skirt. "Muggle nail polish and magic don't mix real well."

"Why gold?" he asked.

"I told Patricia that it was one of my House colours."

He nodded. "You should have gotten orange."

She smiled and covered his hand with her own. "I'm not sure Patricia would have understood about the Chudley Cannons."

"Patricia's a fool."

She laughed and everything changed.

She laughed, and suddenly, she was his again.


End file.
